Blogs Centerpoints Morgan Wylie

I joined the Walker in July of 2004, and I work as the staff wrangler (a.k.a., Department Assistant) in Education & Community Programs. I studied Computer Science and Studio Art at Cornell College in Mt. Vernon, Iowa, graduating in 2002. I love DIY culture, and I'm a big film fan. I also study Japanese, and share my world with a retired racing greyhound named Kiba. More of my musings about film, fat, and feminism can be found at fatgrrl.com.

Voting with the art.

Being an election year, there’s little I can do to escape the barrage of marketing and campaigning. It leaves my brain feeling a bit like an egg left too long in the skillet. But where I find TV spots and rallies and endless hand-shaking to be tedious, I never tire of looking at politics through […]

Being an election year, there’s little I can do to escape the barrage of marketing and campaigning. It leaves my brain feeling a bit like an egg left too long in the skillet. But where I find TV spots and rallies and endless hand-shaking to be tedious, I never tire of looking at politics through the lens of contemporary art. Art can bring a conflict to me from thousands of miles away and make it personally relevant for me, something that the ceaseless sensationalism of network TV never manages to do.

Anyway, I just came across this video by performance artist Julia Mandle and wanted to share. This left me feeling raw. Like a direct implication with the Iraq occupation or illegal interrogations, the swarm of vacant hoods dangles just within reach. The omitted bodies serve as a chilling reminder of our suspension of Habeas Corpus. The viewer (both in real-time and virtually) is left asking, “Is this a participatory performance? What is my role?”

I wonder what would happen if presidential debates were centered around responses to relevant artworks?

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8B6Yf0kjxZ4[/youtube]

Oh, and this may go without saying, but my opinions and those of the artist, Julia Mandle, are not necessarily the opinions of the Walker Art Center.

My Poodle is My Co-Pilot

This morning on my way in to work, I saw a big semi pulled in to the Walker dock. I’m always fascinated by semis because I can’t imagine driving something so huge. Maybe I just like 18-wheelers (a little bit of the Idaho comin’ out in me – trucker culture). But this semi came with […]

This morning on my way in to work, I saw a big semi pulled in to the Walker dock. I’m always fascinated by semis because I can’t imagine driving something so huge. Maybe I just like 18-wheelers (a little bit of the Idaho comin’ out in me – trucker culture). But this semi came with an accessory I don’t often see: a poodle.

I walked by the open driver’s side of the truck and there was a white, fluffy poodle laying in the driver’s seat. There was no smiling. No yipping. No wagging of the tail. Just a deadly serious stare that said: “This is my truck. Back off, Art Girl.”